Meaningless Blab
by SosaLola
Summary: Xander and Spike are living together. Dating? Probably. Having sex? Oh yeah. Will there be sex scenes? Sorry.


**Title:** Meaningless Blab  
**Author:** lusciousxander  
**Pairing:** Xander/Spike  
**Genre:** Silly Comedy.  
**Summery:** Xander and Spike are living together. Dating? Probably. Having sex? Oh yeah. Will there be sex scenes? Sorry.  
**Setting:** During S5, before Spike fell for Buffy.  
**Notes:** This is a dialogue fic. Mostly babble.  
**Actions and Dialogues go like this:**  
Xander:

Spike:

Xander:

Spike:  
**Feedback:** I hope?  
**Rating:** R for mild disturbing talk.  
Big thanks to lusciousspike, kitsuneokashi and deannawol for the fast, great beta.

* * *

"You cheated!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"D-"

"Hold it. We're not starting that all over again."

Glare.

"Get up… turn around."

"Playing Auction again?"

"Spike, turn around… hmmm… take off your shirt."

"Strip, innit?"

"Take it off!"

"Better take off everything while I'm at it?"

"Yes, that'll save us time."

Naked.

"Huh, I don't get it. There's nothing on your chair, under your chair, or inside your clothes. Where did you hide the cards?"

"Said not cheating."

Lip bite.

"You're top, mate."

Groan. "Spike, I'm beat from work. All this week, I've been the one doing the hard work _at_ work and in the sack. I need the lying and enjoying part of the sex… at least once a week."

"Now _this_ is cheating. I won fair and square, now strip and fuck me nice and proper."

"Shit." Walk to bedroom. Take shirt off.

Smirk. Pull out cards stuck under the table. "Boy's dense."

* * *

"Nacho grande, beer, always on the list onion rings, more beer, buffalo platter…huh, I swear I ordered shrimps, anyway, curly fries, chicken wings, and finally yummy pig's blood at your service."

Grimace.

"Nu-uh-uh, you said we gotta go with Hooters, and since it's way better to eat Hooters _at_ Hooters, I'd appreciate if you don't act like somebody is holding holy water gun at your groin."

"It's the..." Blink. "Sunnydale have Hooters?"

"We have everything in dear old Sunny-D, trick is how to find them." Hold up box of chicken wings. "Hooters."

"Right. I don't remember ordering Hooters."

"Yes, you did. After many years of disappointments, I finally got the read-between-the-lines thing." Affirmative nod. "End of round three, you grumbled something about stupid homemade food, which means you're sick of said homemade food, and then you said you were knackered, which implies knockers, which imply boobies, which are hooders and finally we get to Hooters. So perk up, buddy, you got your curly fries with all time favorite piggie blood."

Expressionless. Shudder "It's stupid pig's blood, wanker. I can't live on that rot."

"Sure, you can. Especially with blissful chicken wings goodness."

"Vampires need the diversity of their blood. Now since you get your dose of high-quality shag on a regular basis everyday, maybe it's time you give something up."

"Spike, we agreed: you get to live here, eat and get shagged up as long as you don't mooch off my blood and I don't sing For He's a Jelly Good Fellow in the shower."

"Have to admit you did own up to your deal."

"It was hard, but I managed."

"It's just…" Stare helpless at bag of blood. "This is hardly enough to make a vampire survive for more than a decade."

"Angel did."

"But a vamp's always up for a challenge." Grab the blood.

Grin. "Works every time."

* * *

"Do you call this a massage? You're barely pressing!"

"If I used my strength and hurt your nancy skin, chip'll fry my brains."

"It's not fair, Spike, I slave and I slave and I slave for that pepperoni and blood pizza of yours, the least you can do is give me a good rub."

"If you're calling delivering fast food slaving…"

"I don't do that, anymore. I was fired from it a year ago."

"Right. Well, children biting your arm off for ice cream don't equal…"

"Stopped doing that last year, too!"

Blink.

"You have no idea where I work, do you?"

"Do I have to?"

"Nah. Just rub my shoulders."

Rub. Think. "What is it that you do?"

"I'll show you right after The Simpsons."

"Can't believe you like that stupid cartoon."

"Shut up, Spike, you like The Bold and The Beautiful."

"Passions!"

"Tomato toma-to."

* * *

"So you had sex with Angel?"

"The evil version."

"Same body."

"Jealous?"

"Of Angel? Please." Pause. "Why would I be jealous?"

"'Cause he's better built than you."

"He's taller than you."

"Taller than you, too."

"He has broader shoulders. Bet his fingers give better massages."

"He don't cut in a snog 'cause he need a breath break."

"He does a better Batman impression. I'm sure he likes his Robin with boarder shoulders."

"He likes them blonde."

"He likes them human."

"He likes someone who appreciates the excessive use of gel."

"He likes them b-bold, hairy-butt-ed, Wesley Crusher fans because he's an undead king of dull-land and oh my God we were fighting over Angel!"

Grimace.

"How in hell did that happen? Angel isn't someone to fight over. He's born to be despised, robbed and annoyed."

"Got that right. Better call hotel of nancies again."

"Lost old lady or crazy stalker?"

"Crazy stalker."

* * *

"Saw Anya this afternoon."

"Hmm, well, your head's not on fire and, far as I know, you still have a full set." Look down. "So, what'd she do?"

"Tried to make me jealous."

"Again? Chit's losing her touch."

"I don't get it, Spike. I want us to be friends… or at least try to."

"Don't expect to become chums with an ex. Won't happen."

"But it's not my fault I don't get off on jiggly boobs, anymore. Well, not so much as before."

"A broken heart never sees logic."

"Stinks. Especially with all the attractive guys she uses as jealousy-bait."

"Good-looking?"

"Shaggable."

"Hm… ever did a threesome?"

"Oh, no, Anya'll definitely chop off our penises."

"Make earrings out of them?"

"I won't be surprised. Except I wouldn't know, 'cause I'd be dead."

"Don't have to. Turn you before she finish it off, except you'll still be dead."

"And live for eternity without the most productive part of my body? No thanks."

"Good point."

* * *

"Spike, is it true that Biggie means Poo?"

Scowl. "Biggie?"

"They say so in the American Guide to British Slang."

Stare. "When'd you turn into a smarty?"

"Just reading this to understand half of what you say. Biggie means Poo." Laugh. "They say that's probably why Wendy's isn't a hit in England."

"You mean the 'eat great even late' bint? Brought a waiter boy to Dru once. Stars showed her evil squares. Stupid sod. Why? What they sell?"

"Biggie-fries."

Smirk.

"See, Spike, has your mom ever called you Willy?" Grin.

"Cute." Eye roll.

* * *

"Asshole!"

Bored. "What now?"

"You threw towels in the toilet, Spike! And now all of them are covered with pee! Man, I hate that the sink is glistening with gel, and that the kitchen is sticky with blood, and that you don't call me 'pet' like the rest of your exes, and that you love to annoy Buffy on purpose."

Stare. "You want me to call you 'pet'?"

"I hate being left out."

"Right. So… pet, wanna shag before we go or after… pet?"

"Scooby meeting starts in an hour."

"So? No one's gonna die if we're two hours late… pet."

"I hate quickies, Spike, had my share of them in the past. Very blurry."

"It's just a small in and out, H-pet, won't take more than an hour!"

"Spike… never call me 'Pet' again."

"Oh, thank God!"

* * *

_Five hours later, Buffy and Willow were sitting in the Magic Box:_

"So how's Xander?"

"Last time I called he was all twitchy. I guess he was going all the way with Spike."

Cringe. "Then I better stop calling, because he always sounds twitchy."

Smile. "Are you finally accepting, Buffy?"

Sigh. "I did make a big stink about it, didn't I? It wasn't about the going gay thing as much as the Spike thing."

Smile. "I don't really blame you. It does make you go bonkers."

Frown. "I'm still weirded out by him sleeping with Spike of all people."

"Xander can be unpredictable. I mean, from dating Cordelia to an ex-vengeance demon, and now a vampire. A Spike vampire."

"I can't really call what they do dating. They don't act date-y. Do you think they act date-y?"

"Maybe not in front of us."

"Maybe that's how gay guys act?"

Frown. "Not in Will and Grace."

"Or maybe that's how it goes with Xander. Remember his Cordelia days?"

"Boy do I. Or his Anya phase, I never got what he saw in her."

"He just goes for the weird type."

"The weird and the horrible, very horrible type."

"Hey! He had feelings for me."

"And he had the kissie Willow feelings, which yay… at that time, though." Pause. "Anyway, I guess he goes for the weird and horribly gorgeous type."

Grin. "Better."

"Ta, luv."

Blonde glare. "Spike."

Hazel grin. "Big hellos to my favorite girls."

Red grin. "Hi Xander."

Glare switch to Xander. "Where were you? We already slayed the big bad."

"Except it was tiny."

Glare switch to Willow. "But still scary." Pout. "My shoe is covered with demon goo."

"Aw, sorry we couldn't be there, Buff."

Sigh. Hand wave. "No biggie."

Snerk.

"What?"

"Biggie."

"The burger?"

"No, the poo."

"Oh, ew… huh?"

"It's British, Will."

Headshake. "You only learn the icky words."

"It's why I bugger 'im."

**The End.**


End file.
